


Lab Work

by jjtaylor



Category: Sanctuary (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-21
Updated: 2017-08-21
Packaged: 2018-12-18 00:59:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11863332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jjtaylor/pseuds/jjtaylor
Summary: Nikola's busy working. Helen wishes him to be otherwise occupied.





	Lab Work

"Helen, please," Nikola sighs. He's attempting to unpack the horrendous mess that Henry created moving data packets around before they had managed to quarantine the Praxian nanite. Helen is undoubtedly expecting him to have everything tagged and checked for errors twice by now. "You can't possibly expect me to perform at my best in these conditions." He takes a sip from the glass of wine, and spins around his chair, but Helen's hand on his shoulder stops him mid-turn.

"I'm not here to pressure you," she says. She leans close and her hair brushes his neck, just above his collar. He tugs at his tie absently.

"Good, because you know I don't work well under pressure."

"That's a lie," Helen says. Her hand is still on his shoulder and so he has to deliver his response to the multiple screens flickering in front of him.

"It is, yes," he admits. "Regardless, your were-boy here has left quite a mess."

"I'm just here to watch you work," Helen says.

"Oh, good, because - " he says, and then has to pause, because Helen's leaned her weight up against the back of his chair, her legs spread and hips squared. If he tilted his head back, he could rest it between Helen's breasts.

"I thought you had work to do, Nikola," Helen says when Nikola's hands still on the keyboard. 

"A genius' work is never finished," he says, and feels every minute movement as Helen shifts her weight, foot to foot, getting comfortable. 

She doesn't move for several moments, and Nikola's typing resumes and steadies. He falls back into the equations, cleaning up trails that Henry ought to have caught before the tangled in the - 

He stops again, because - 

"Problem?" Helen asks. He can imagine her expression, the quirk of her mouth, her tilted head. He can also imagine, entirely too vividly, exactly what she's doing that made him forget his work entirely in one blank moment. The slightest brush of material, her clothing shifting - 

She's touching herself. He can feel the movement of the back of her hand pressing against the chair. 

"No," Nikola says. "No problem." He picks the code back up, grasping onto his concentration desperately. Helen makes a little huff of breath, unmistakable as anything else but pleasure. Her head tips forward and her hair brushes his face.

He untangles another code string before stopping, putting his hands on the desk, gripping tight.

"Giving up already?" Helen asks. "Henry will be triumphant."

"I'm not thinking about Henry right now," he says.

"Oh?" Helen says. "I was sure you'd be cursing his name while you cleaned up another mess, as indispensable as you are, as you're so fond of saying."

"Helen," Nikola says, steadying his voice. Still, his words come out breathy and uneven. "Helen, I can smell you."

She makes a pleased hum, and that's it. He spins the chair and catches Helen, momentarily unsteady as he removed her support, his hands tight on her hips. 

"I hardly meant to pull you away from your work," she says, grinning, smoothing down her skirt and placing her hands on his shoulders. He inclines his head, brushes her hand with his lips. She lifts her hand obligingly and he sucks her fingers into his mouth, tasting the distinctive taste of Helen at this specific point in her desire. 

"Well, well," Helen says. "This is a different kind of problem solving, now, isn't it?" There's barely a hitch in her voice and so Nikola drags his teeth against the pads of her fingers, watches her face for the flutter of her eyelashes.

"And I presume you are the one with a problem?" he asks, letting her hand drop and tracing his fingers across the fastenings of her shirt. 

"You might call it a slight distraction," she says, settling so she's standing between his spread legs on the chair. "Nothing I can't take care of myself."

"Which is why you're here," he says.

"I like watching a genius at work," she says. He grins, and rubs his thumb over her nipple through her shirt. He tugs her forward.

"Have a seat, Helen," he says.

"Are you asking me to sit on your lap?"

"You could stand, but I think you might want to prepare for the eventuality that your legs will give out."

Helen laughs and obliges, and it's a moment before they get balanced properly, and then Helen leans forward and Nikola kisses her neck, pulling back the sweep of her hair. 

"This is hardly what I expected to find you working on," Helen says, her hands on his shoulders, massaging the muscles, then beginning to unknot his tie.

"You are such a tease, Helen," Nikola says, arranging his hands so one is on her hip, steadying her, as the other slips between her legs. Her panties are wet, and he pulls his fingers over the material, too soft, too gently. Helen squirms slightly, trying to get more pressure. "I ought to tease you in return."

Helen manages to pull his tie off and lets it slip to the floor, and then begins immediately tracing her fingers under his collar, up the nape of his neck and back down. "As I previously mentioned, I don't need you to continue," she says.

"Oh, but you want me to," he says, and pushes her panties aside enough to touch her warm wetness with the very tips of his fingers. Helen bears down but he moves his hand so she can't get what she wants. He touches her again and she holds still this time, and he slides his fingers along her slickness. She smells even stronger now, this close, and he takes in deep breathes, gathering all the scents of her, her hair, her perfume, the hot smell of sex. He presses in and she bears down again, and he moves away.

"These are not your hands, they're mine," Nikola whispers against her cheek. "And you can't make them do what you want."

Helen grabs Nikola's head in her hands and tilts her face down, kissing him, as though asserting she can at least do this. He loves the way Helen kisses, assertive and sly, like the way she breaks into buildings with a smile and a tilt of her head like she's just too beautiful to be engaged in criminal activity. 

He gives in to the kiss but doesn't let her rock herself down against his hand, pulling back each time she rocks forward. 

She makes a frustrated sound, and stills, instead choosing to scrape her nails against the skin of Nikola's chest that she's exposed, unbuttoning the first several buttons, nails catching at his undershirt. "I'm not trying to make you do anything," Helen says. "I'm merely an observer."

"So you say." Nikola strokes her, sliding almost aimlessly through her heat. Helen rocks forward, and he can feel the anticipation in her body, the need for stimulation, and he pulls back just before he touches her clit. 

"Fine," she says, breathy, and adjusts her legs around the chair, settles her hands on his shoulders, and closes her eyes. He touches her again, and she stays perfectly still, even as he strokes up over her clit, exploratory, than deliberate, and Helen's breath changes but she's motionless.

"Clever girl," he says, and he can hear the unsteadiness in his own voice. He's been hard since he first smelled her, but it's Helen's control that's turning him on so much right now. He admires it so much, and it's an odd thought to have when he's teasing her like this, when he's working on solving her body like an equation, but Helen's mastery over her own body is so admirable, Nikola's not sure even he has such control in moments like this. Over his vampire strength, certainly, that's instinct. This is Helen using her body as one more tool in her arsenal to get what she wants.

"Clever fingers," she says, her breath catching now on each stroke of his fingers. He slides a finger inside her and leaves it still for a moment, then withdraws it, strokes her clit, and pushes back in. "Very clever," she says. He repeats the motion, once, then again, and then nibbles her earlobe, and says, "You can move now, Helen."

The response is immediate. Helen's hands tighten on Nikola's shoulders, her fingers digging into the silk of his vest, and she rocks forward hard enough against Nikola's fingers that the chair moves. She laughs at his surprised gasp and the quick digging in of his heels against the floor and then she does it again, and this time Nikola can meet her movements, pressing up into her as she rocks down.

"God, yes," she murmurs as he uses two fingers instead of one, his whole hand wet and sticky with her. He brushes the hand that had been holding her at her hips and cups her breast. Helen leans into it, and he can tell the moment the angle of his fingers changes inside her from good to just right because she groans.

"Helen," he says, and kisses her, the soft slide of her lips against his, the heat of her mouth a dizzying counterpoint to the scorching heat between her legs, the tremble of her thighs, the feeling of her swollen clit beneath his fingers. She lets her head fall back, her hair bouncing on her shoulders as she moves against his hand, and he kisses her neck and feels her pulse quicken, erratic and beautiful, as she comes without making a sound.

She lets her head fall forward again, pressing their foreheads together. Nikola lets her catch her breath, finds his own control. His hand is still inside her clothes, cupped gently against her sex.

"Again?" he asks. She laughs, a low sound accompanied by a huff of breath against his mouth. It's not a refusal, so he curls his fingers, presses down against her clit. The sound she makes is amazing, and his body shudders in response. She moves her hips but lets him do most of the work, stroking deliberately and it's very soon after that Helen's climaxing again, this time making a soft cry and just as quickly smothering it in the deep kiss she presses to his mouth.

"Again?" he asks, and she kisses him harder, catches her teeth against his bottom lip. He presses his fingers in shallowly to her opening, waiting for her to pull away but she doesn't, just rocks slightly and he presses deeper, alternates with stroking her clit, longer strokes but just as hard this time. Her climax is fast and intense this time - he catches the clench of her muscles around the tips of his fingers and she whimpers and pants against his cheek.

"Again?" he asks, his voice wrecked now, and she moves against his hand in answer. She doesn't rock, just presses hard, and he presses back, over and over.

"Nikola," she says, a growl, and comes so hard she bucks forward, crashing her chest into his. His heels slip and the chair skids, slamming into the desk, where several expensive pieces of equipment fall like dominoes. Helen's weight settles on Nikola's chest and she laughs and he laughs, too. He kisses the top of her head, and closes his eyes, letting the warm intimacy of the moment block out anything else. He feels Helen shift, and suddenly she's lifting herself off his legs. He leans back in the chair, stretching, and then opens his eyes to find her watching him.

"What a mess," she says. Her cheeks are still pink and it makes him smirk. He looks around at the lab - nothing seems to be unsalvageable.

"Heinrich will forgive me," Nikola says.

"I hardly think so, if he knew what just happened in his lab. Anyway, I wasn't speaking of the equipment. You should see yourself Nikola, you look perfectly debauched." 

Helen is grinning at him as he looks down at himself. His shirt is hopelessly wrinkled, his vest askew. Worse, there's a dark wet stain spreading across his thighs, from where Helen had been sitting on him, where the wet heat of her has spread all over him. He touches the fabric, and it's disappointingly cool.

"You look quite put together yourself," he says. She does, with her skirt smoothed down, only the pinkness in her cheeks and her swollen lips giving anything away.

"I do, don't I?" she says, and pulls her hair back away from her face. "So I'll leave you to your work, then," Helen says.

"Helen, please," Nikola says, "If you think there's any chance I can concentrate after -" he stops. "Well," he says, and gestures to his pants. "You feel free to take your leave, but I'll be retiring to my room to attend to.... other matters."

He stands, and picks up a few pieces of equipment, and when he turns, it's a testament to how distracted he is that he doesn't notice that Helen is right behind him, and turning brings her faces inches from his. His eyes dart to her mouth and she smirks.

"Nikola, what kind of scientist would I be if I didn't reward such diligent work?" She kisses him, and as though her meaning could possibly be misinterpreted, she touches the wet spot on his pants, and then scrapes her fingernails teasingly over his cock.

"You can hardly expect me to match up to your accomplishments," he says.

"You're fully aware of my high expectations," Helen says, and then she leans in and whispers close to his ear, "If you fuck me hard enough I expect I can come twice more before you do," she says.

Nikola shudders, and with a nod, because he can't quite manage both words and control, he lets Helen lead him to her bedroom.

 

In the morning, Nikola wakes to find Helen beside him in bed, drinking an coffee and scanning a tablet, the quick swipes of her fingers changing the flicker of lights on the screen.

"Good morning," she says, turning slightly and setting the tablet down on the table. "Coffee?"

"Yes, thank you," Nikola says, and sits up, arranging the pillow at his back, and taking the cup of coffee she offers him. It's still hot; she must have gotten up for it quite recently, and he never heard her leave and return. He sips at it and lets the action fill the moment so he doesn't have to speak. This certainly isn't the first time he's ever slept with Helen, nor the first time they've actually slept in the same bed. But in all the past experiences, there was always some pressing event that got one of them out of bed before the other awoke - and after a point, it seemed to be the agreed-upon procedure.

Nikola's thrown by having coffee in bed with Helen, the beginnings of morning light coming through the curtains, watery and cool. Helen has picked her tablet back up and is typing something on the screen. He finds he very desperately wants to touch her again.

Nikola finishes his coffee and acts on his decision before he can second guess himself. He sets his cup down, shifts in the bed, and slides his hand up Helen's arm and across her bare shoulder.

"Good morning," Helen says again, and sets down her tablet on the comforter in front of them. Nikola sees a list of security reports and email flash across the screen before it fades into a black, reflective screen.

"Might I be so forward as to say this is new?" Nikola says. He's still tracing the skin of her shoulder, and he risks sliding his fingers up her neck, under her hair. Helen sighs gently.

"This is hardly a first time," Helen says. She's tilting her head accommodatingly for the path that Nikola's hand is traveling, down the nape of her neck, over her chin and jaw, down to her collarbone and just above the modest covering of the sheets across her chest, the thin silk undershirt she's wearing.

"I think I would recall sharing coffee in bed with you the next morning," Nikola says.

"Oh, the first time we've had coffee together, of course," Helen says. Helen reaches up and guides his hand down to her breast. The silk is soft and warm, and her nipple is hard against his palm.

Nikola knows that Helen doesn't do anything without reason, and as much as she's playing this off as nothing new, they both know something has changed. Nikola's hardly one to let it drop without expressly being told, and so he shifts closer, tucking himself up against Helen's side so he can nuzzle her cheek and kiss her ear.

"And there isn't anything that's occasioned this morning's coffee?" Nikola says. He pinches her nipple and she arches slightly into his hand, and then she turns and kisses him.

Nikola's startled at how quickly it undoes him, the warm easiness of her body next to his in the morning, the intimacy of her state of undress, the taste of coffee on her tongue. They shift as the intensity of their kisses grow, until Nikola is pushed onto his back as Helen slides herself on top of him. She tugs at the material of her night dress around her hips and Nikola's about to offer to untangle her from the sheets when he realizes what she's doing is lifting the hem above her waist so she can spread her legs and straddle him, sinking down on his already quite hard and aching cock.

"Helen," he gasps, and Helen groans as she moves on top of him, and she arranges his hands for him, cupping her breasts.

"Yes," she says, as he caresses her beautiful curves.

"You are so beautiful," he says, and then opens his eyes in alarm, afraid he's broken some unspoken rule, when the compliment is so genuine, with no bite or tease or lewd suggestion behind it, but Helen only smiles beatifically with her eyes closed and leans forward to kiss the corner of his mouth, to rest her lips against his jaw. 

She comes first, though it's a close thing, Nikola tipped over into his climax by hers, their gasps and cries like echos of one another. 

Helen's tablet has been knocked to the floor, and she slips out of his arms with a kiss to pick it up, briefly check that it still turns on, and then returns it to the bedside table.

"Shall I go fetch us some breakfast?" Helen asks.

"Are you going to answer my question first?" he asks. "What I've done to deserve a first time of....coffee. And now breakfast in bed?"

"It's hardly a matter of deserving - " Helen says, and then stops, when Nikola reaches out a hand to cover hers.

"I'm only asking because - " What he's about to say too honest, and he can't finish.

"Your work in the lab last night," Helen says, taking a seat back on the bed, her stunning legs still dangling off the edge. "It was unselfish."

"Helen, touching you is not any kind of hardship."

"Nevertheless," she says, "It brought to light that I don't often engage in such unselfishness."

"Well, you'd hardly get any work done, now, would you," he says. Helen grins at him, and then stands and lifts her robe from the chair and slips it on.

"Henry's coming back from his visit with Emily today," she says. "I supposed he might like his lab back in working order."

"You suppose," he says, sitting up.

"But perhaps after breakfast," Helen says with a wicked grin before she slips out the door.

Nikola lies back down and closes his eyes, relishing the scent of Helen in the sheets. "Remind me to erase the security camera footage," Nikola calls out, sitting bolt upright again.

He can hear Helen's laugh from down the hall.

**Author's Note:**

> Written 11-2-12


End file.
